Let me preface this by saying we are not big fans of the San Francisco Giants. One group in this family generally roots for the Astros, and one person is firmly entrenched in the Braves' camp.

That being said, while watching the World Series in 2010, I proclaimed that the perfect dog name would be "Buster Posey." The boys jumped on it and said I could name a dog Buster Posey if they could only get a cocker spaniel. Of course there would be no cocker spaniel! They look girly! They have hair! They must be groomed! No little dogs for me!

Fast-forward to December. The Flecks have a dog that Kim rescued from the pound for a cocker spaniel rescue in Houston, but it had no designated home.

As a way to push my creativity, I am participating in a Project 52 with 16 other photographers. There is an assigned theme each week for each of us to interpret. I'll post my picture each week, then link to the next photographer's site where her picture will be posted with a link to the next one....keep clicking and you will see 17 variations on a theme.

We are starting off with self-portraits. You get to "see" all the fabulous people participating in this group and put names with faces. Like many people, I much prefer to be behind the lens. I often say that my kids are going to be old men, with their grandkids looking through family photos, and wonder if they even *had* a mother!

He started the year winning Grand Champion at our county show in January, followed right after by making the sale in San Antonio with another pig.

He ended 2010 with a bang. Literally.

If you know us at all, you know I have 2 farm-raised, red-blooded country boys. Boys who hunt. So if you have a problem with that, just click away now. Come back later on, and we can still be friends and no hard feelings whatsoever. But if you don't have a problem with my deer hunters, read on!

I get a phone call Sunday morning as I am ready to head to church.

"Mama, I got a deer."

"Sure thing Payne. Congratulations!"

"I think it is a pretty good one."

"Cool. Text me a picture."

This is what they texted me. Payne was with Bob-Bob, and the combination of grandfather + grandson produced the above shot. I could count 12 points for sure.

Then Jon calls, telling me what a good deer Payne shot. Over 20 points. Well, that *is* a good deer. Again, I told them to text me pictures. And this is what they send me. Now I can really see the drop tine in the back and can see a few more points.

It wasn't until my brother-in-law texted a picture to Roberta that I finally got how good the buck was. Here is what he sent:

The calendar claims it is 2011. I am still confused about 2010: where did it go, and why did it leave so quickly? Was there an emergency?

I had not really planned to *not* blog during December, but that is the way the old cookie crumbled. After a certain point, I figured the time away would be well-spent. Plus I was, well, away. It was our year to be in Tennessee for Christmas. What a perfect choice, imperfectly planned by us. It snowed all day Christmas -big, wet, fluffy, gigantor flakes. There were snowmen and sledding and snowballs and red, runny noses, amongst all the other traditional Christmas Day things like Stockings! and Presents! and Food! and Family!

*Please no comments on one of the children's choice of hairstyles. Yes, he wore it like that. To church. On Christmas Eve.